The Negative
by Irilia
Summary: In an off part of Massie and Claire's friendship, Massie pulls a devasting  prank.  Oneshot.


**Author's Note: It's so so sappy, I know, and I can't write like Lisi Harrison. It just doesn't work for me, so you'll have to deal with normal language. :P And I handed this in as a school project, then changed the character names and the way it was written to make it into a Clique fanfic. So I tried to stay close to my original theme, which, I wanted to be about Massie stealing Cam, but "that's not appropriate for school" *Glares at teachers*.**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Nisha is made up, I had Nisha being Layne, but I couldn't imagine Layne falling for Massie's sweet acts again after the first book or whenever it is Massie sucks up to her to get close to Chris.**

Claire stopped for a rest on the bench in front of the Roundabout Pier. She'd walked for miles and miles, not really knowing what to do now that she had been socially ousted (In Westchester, was there any other way?). Luckily, Claire couldn't recall too well the visuals of what had happened, the tears blurring her vision during the entire ordeal. No way was she going to go back Nisha's house to pick up her bags after that. Just thinking about what the Pretty Committee had done to her made her want to throw up the shrimp bites and caviar at from the dinner at the party. Again.

It was silent around her. It was pouring rain, nobody wanted to come for a romantic evening, nor tourist picture sessions. With nothing better to do, Claire surveyed the litter around her. Trashed McDonald's hamburger wrappers and fry cartons were skewered across fence pickets, pieces of paper sticking to the soaked pavement, the ink running into colourful streams down the sewers. She couldn't see what was swirling in the air; the fog and rain clouded her vision whilst the water blended in with the dreary sky.

It was similar to herself, my emotions skewered, her Sephora mascara (a gift from Massie, to help get her get ready for the party) running and the gray tone of her face mixing with the surroundings.

Claire's head dropped and her soaked locks splattered around her face, and started to become poker straight under the elements, spring out of its curl. Her clothes stuck to her back, chilling her, but it felt no different than the ice she'd felt-the literal, from Massie's prank, the ice running down her front and, of course, down to her pants, and the metamorphic being the temperature of her blood, after she'd seen Massie taking the opportunity while she was cleaning up her mess to tell Nisha she'd apparently gone off and was spreading rumours about her in the bathroom. The unceremonious boot from the party Claire had swiftly received after was nothing compared to the fact that her only friend that had been there for her through thick and thin during her years spent in Westchester was now gone, a victim of one of Massie's schemes.

"I've always wondered whenever Massie was with you whether or not you were trash talking me," she had said, "and I thought, no. She'd never do that. Claire would never betray a friend without a purpose. But I guess I was wrong."

Claire bit my lip, and as her sorrow deepened, she swore the intensity of the rain did too. It was then Claire noticed a piece of filmy paper battling its way through the wind current and the raindrops beating it to the ground. As it fluttered in front of her face, she caught it with two fingers and brought it towards her face.

It was a black and white negative of two girls doing each other's hair. It was a very sweet picture that would have normally filled Claire with joy; she was a sucker for the feel good crap. But now, it made her sick to my stomach, as if she'd eaten too many gummies at once. This wasn't an opportunity she'd be having anytime soon. When Claire wasn't with the Pretty Committee, she was nothing, and she'd never been successful at finding friends to stick with her whenever she'd somehow pissed Massie off.

At the same time, Claire felt a little rejuvenated. It was a shocking realization to her that she shouldn't let Massie get away with this- not only for her dignity, but for the sake of Nisha's. Massie may be doing Nisha's hair, but not in a friendly way. It wouldn't be long before she tossed Nisha aside and set her sights onto some other way to sever Claire from any chance at happiness. By letting Nisha think these rumours were true, she wasn't being a very good friend.

Claire stared at the negative for a moment longer, and then flicked it back into the air. But instead of fluttering across the breeze, the rain attacked it back to the ground, where it was beaten by raindrops, and the ink ran with the rest of the litter running across the cobblestone. Ah-bviously, the negative had fluttered to Claire's hands to deliver a message and no longer served a purpose being in the air. Claire felt even more confident. She started to walk back to Nisha's house.

After all, she needed her bag.


End file.
